


Regenesis

by alouette_des_champs



Series: Youth of the Nation [6]
Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Families of Choice, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gambling, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Minor Character Death, Recovery, Road Trips, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alouette_des_champs/pseuds/alouette_des_champs
Summary: It might take time, but eventually, all living things begin to heal.
Relationships: Moonshine Cybin/Hardwon Surefoot
Series: Youth of the Nation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429138
Comments: 52
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I get most of my inspiration when I listen to new eps, so when the pod gang took a break over the holidays, I also ended up taking a little bit of a break. THEN THE FLU HIT. 
> 
> Anyway, the people requested Balnor, so the bag dad himself has made his debut. This is the first installment in this series to have multiple chapters. I just couldn't cram everything I had outlined into one. The next chapter will follow soon-ish if everything goes to plan.
> 
>  **EDIT 3/19:** I made a Twitter account solely so that people can get in contact with me outside of comments since my personal Twitter is much too chaotic to publicize. Follow me: @prettyalouetty

The neighborhood their apartment complex was in wasn’t a bad one, but it wasn’t exactly good, either. People weren’t being gunned down in the streets, but there _were_ a lot of Steel Reserve cans and empty whippet cartridges rattling around in the alleys. Their building was next to one of the nicer houses on the block, a little brick one-story with a well-maintained garden out front. Moonshine always admired the plants when she went out to smoke. She had seen the sole inhabitant of the house—a stocky, balding middle-aged man with a mustache—coming and going, but they never said more than a few hellos back and forth until the day Pawpaw chased a squirrel through his yard and absolutely wrecked his tomato plants.

“I’m so sorry,” Moonshine said, out of breath from chasing her dog. Their neighbor was staring at the place where his plants had stood only moments before with his mouth half-open, limply holding a garden hose that was still trickling water. She scooped a very dirty Pawpaw into her arms; he licked her face, oblivious to the destruction he had just caused. “I can try to help you fix it if you want.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, although the look on his face as he surveyed his trampled garden said the opposite. 

“You sure? My mama always says I got a green thumb.”

He looked at her face for the first time, and his expression brightened slightly. “Well, I guess I could use a hand…”

“Great!” she chirped. First thing the next day, she dragged Hardwon and Beverly over, bearing a tray of apology brownies and the three pairs of garden gloves Bev had insisted on bringing for all of them. The rest was history. 

Almost immediately, Balnor became everybody’s surrogate dad. He took a special shine to Beverly, the youngest of them and the one who missed his real dad the most. Moonshine was feeling extra protective of her young friend, who had serious daddy issues and a bad track record with older men to boot, so she watched the two of them like a hawk. Her vigilance turned out to be unnecessary. It seemed therapeutic for the kid to have the perks of a father figure—advice, companionship, support—without a lifetime buildup of misplaced expectations. Balnor was like a sitcom dad: essentially clueless, forever bumbling, but well-intentioned. 

The three of them seemed to fill a void in his life as well. She had noticed a smattering of framed photos around his house, typical Sears-portrait-style family shots of a younger Balnor with a woman and a little kid. He’d had a family once, but whatever had happened to them, they were no longer around. He didn’t even talk about them. They kept things pretty light most of the time when it was the four of them, hanging out and watching TV in Balnor’s den. They had tried inviting him over to their place, but he didn’t like to leave his La-Z-Boy. His house was a lot more spacious, anyway, even though there were a disturbing number of deer heads and gaping fish mounted on the walls, collecting dust. He had a lot of tall tales about these various taxidermy pieces, but the three of them had come to the conclusion that Balnor hadn’t actually killed any of the animals himself. He just liked to tell the stories.

“I think these fellas would really have a field day with me,” he said, chuckling into his can of Budweiser. They were working their way through _Queer Eye,_ one of their attempts to acquaint their collective dad with the culture of the youths. 

“They would _not_ let you wear those socks with those shorts, that’s for sure,” Bev said, looking pointedly at Balnor’s khaki cargo shorts and tall white socks.

“These are good socks, Bev. I’ve had them for ten years.”

“I can tell.”

“They wouldn’t let you eat those lil’ sardines out the tin either,” Moonshine teased.

“That’s the best way to eat them!”

“I’m nominating you as we speak,” Hardwon declared, picking up his phone. “I’m texting Tan France directly.” 

She was pretty sure that Hardwon had never had a single positive adult role model, male or female, but Balnor’s overwhelming dad-ness was even getting to him. Moonshine went outside to smoke one day and found the two of them shooting the shit while Hardwon worked on his car. The older man hung by the curb with his hands in his pockets for a while, chatting casually about car stuff that she didn’t understand, before Hardwon waved him over.

“Take a look at this,” he said, stepping out of the way. She almost dropped her cigarette in surprise. Hardwon never let anyone touch his car, but he stood aside while Balnor poked around under the hood, looking up every once in a while to consult. He needed that, she thought. He needed someone unselfish in his life, someone who knew what they were doing. They all did. 

It was a good thing that Hardwon had chosen to let Balnor help him with the car when he did, because they were getting ready to take it on the longest trip it had made since the 1980s. Moonshine’s family had been bugging her to visit for a while, and she had finally acquiesced and agreed to take a long weekend to come and see everybody. On the morning they had chosen to leave, she watched Balnor and Hardwon load their bags into the trunk skeptically.

“You sure this thing’s gonna make it? We could still take the Greyhound and have my uncle pick us up at the station.”

“It’s all good, baby!” Hardwon replied. She wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the car; probably the car, judging by the way he slapped the hood. 

In turn, Balnor slapped Hardwon on the back. “This guy tightened up the exhaust system to help with some of that noise when it runs. Should be smooth sailing.”

“I trust ya’ll, God help me.” She was glad that Bev and Hardwon had both been able to take the weekend off work to come with her. She wanted them to meet her family, of course, but more than that, she didn’t trust either of them to stay out of trouble while she was gone. Not that she was much good at keeping anyone out of trouble, but she was a pro at mopping up the aftermath. Not even Balnor could clean up messes like Moonshine Cybin.

They played would-you-rather and fuck, marry, kill. The car had a cassette player and nothing else, so they sang along to the only cassette tape that Hardwon owned: _Now That’s What I Call Music! 35_ from 2010, featuring such hits as _California Gurls,_ Lady Gaga’s _Alejandro,_ and a Nickelback song that made Moonshine cover her ears and scream while Hardwon tried desperately to fast-forward through it. She and Bev had a contest to see who could eat the most gas station Twinkies; she badly underestimated how much a recently pubescent boy could eat and was soundly beaten ten to seven.

Around hour three, Bev fell asleep in the back seat with Pawpaw curled up on his lap. Moonshine wanted to join him, but she had to stay awake to navigate. The roads had started looking less and less like roads until they were driving on dirt tracks barely wide enough for two cars to pass one another. Road signs appeared only sporadically; her directions were from memory.

“Can I ask you something?” Hardwon said, glancing at her. He was wearing a pair of aviators that she thought were incredibly dorky, but in a cute way. Not that she ever would have said that to him; that would be a good way to ensure that he never wore sunglasses of any kind ever again.

“Sure. You’re gonna turn left at the big ol’ tree up there.” 

“Your family treated you okay when you were growing up, didn’t they?”

“Yeah. They were always real good to me. Why?”

“Just…I found out about a lot of fucked up shit that happened to Gemma after…” He cleared his throat. “If anything bad ever happened to you, I would want to know. If you wanted to tell me.” _Before you’re dead,_ hung in the air, unsaid. She felt a little shaken. They had spoken very little about Gemma after her funeral despite Moonshine’s gentle prodding. Eventually, she had given up, resigned to the fact that it was just going to be just another subject they avoided. 

“Worst thing my family ever did to me was make me listen to them doin’ karaoke on the holidays,” she replied finally, reaching over to squeeze his arm. 

“Good.”

He made the left turn, and all of a sudden, their destination was in sight. Her childhood home was a rambling old farmhouse painted bright yellow. The house itself had seen better days, but the paint job was fresh. There was the wooden skeleton of an unused barn off to one side, choked with greenery, close to the little crick that ran past the house and down into the gully beyond. She tried to focus on the joy that sprung up inside of her at the sight and suppress the lingering dread, the reason she had left, the _I am not going to be able to save this place._ That was guilt and pain for another time.

She could see her mother sitting on the front porch all the way from the end of the long driveway. As soon as the car stopped, she jumped out with Pawpaw and made for the front steps. Mawmaw, her mother’s old dog, trotted out to greet them, wagging her ratty tail. Pawpaw ran circles around her, yipping excitedly, while she flung her arms around her mama.

“I missed you!” she gushed breathlessly, suddenly surrounded by her mother’s familiar scent, kitchen herbs and lemon soap.

“I missed you too, baby girl,” her mother drawled, giving her a squeeze before releasing her.

“These two chucklefucks are my best friends,” Moonshine announced, gesturing to Bev and Hardwon, who were still getting out of the car.

“Is that so?” Jolene chuckled. Until recently, she had not looked her age, but it was starting to creep up on her. Her hair, once the same color as Moonshine’s, was almost entirely gray now. She wore it in a long braid. Her eyes were still sharp and clear, but her skin was paler underneath her constellations of freckles, and it seemed to sag.

The two boys made their way onto the porch, and introductions were made. Jolene gave both of them a characteristic mom hug before ushering all of them inside. The interior of the house was cozy, if a little messy. Jolene always had guests, friends or family members who were visiting or had fallen on hard times and were staying for a while. Her uncle lived in a trailer down the street, but he spent most of his time at the house. Someone was always stopping by for dinner, to catch up on gossip, to help out with something. Moonshine worried about a lot of things, but she never had to worry about her mother being alone.

They put their bags in Moonshine childhood bedroom. She had, of course, shared with at least one sister at a time, so there was a twin bed and a set of bunk beds that she remembered with a nostalgic kind of hatred. The walls were a tattered collage of posters and pictures that Jolene had never bothered to peel off the wall after all her daughters had grown up. Her mother brought them a stack of towels.

“I got more than one place to sleep in this house, y’know,” she remarked, raising her eyebrows at them. “Ya’ll ain’t gotta squeeze together in here.”

“This’ll be fine for us,” Moonshine replied, grinning. She turned to her friends. “I’ll tell you two what I told my sisters: I’ll fuckin’ fight you for the top bunk, and I’ll fuckin’ win.”

Bev held his hands up in surrender and tossed his backpack onto the bottom bunk. 

Downstairs, things were gearing up for a good old-fashioned crawdad boil. There were at least ten people in the kitchen chopping vegetables, bumping into each other, adding spices to the huge pot that was bubbling on the stove, and having a spirited debate about how much paprika was the right amount of paprika. Kids raced around underfoot, tripping people and causing general mischief. This was the kind of general hubbub she had grown up in, the friendly chaos she found comforting. It was easy to let herself be drawn right back into its rhythm.

Bev and Hardwon were clearly overwhelmed. Someone thrust a potato and a knife into Bev’s hands, which he stared at uselessly, and somebody’s kid immediately started trying to climb up Hardwon’s leg. Moonshine swooped in and snatched the kid up, kissed their grimy little cheek, then set them down and gave them a swat on the butt as they took off running. 

“Go find a tree to climb,” she called after them. Hardwon gave her a grateful look. She waded into the brouhaha in the kitchen, dragging him along behind her. They were quickly swallowed up by a crowd by family members who each wanted to greet her and give her a hug or a kiss on the cheek, to ask her how things were going in the city. From there, the afternoon was a blur of activity. Once the crawdads were finished boiling, they took the food out on the porch. Everyone ate sitting on the numerous chairs, on the bare boards of the porch, standing up and leaning against the rail. Eventually, Bev and Hardwon started to loosen up as they chatted with her clan. It made her feel warm inside to see the two of them interacting with her family.

After the dishes were done, most people took their leave, taking some leftovers with them. Some of her closer cousins and relatives stuck around to visit. 

“I reckon I’ll go lie down,” Jolene said with a sigh. Moonshine felt a sudden rush of anxiety. This was a good time to get her mother alone and ask her a question that she had been saving up for a while.

“Can I come talk to you about somethin’, mama?” she said tentatively. “It’ll just take a minute. I know you’re tired.” Her mother nodded and gestured for her to follow. She left Bev and Hardwon on the porch with her Uncle Cobb, who could talk for hours once you got him started. They were in good hands.

Moonshine sat down on her mother’s patchwork quilt, looking lovingly around the bedroom that had gone largely unchanged since she had been a child. On the nightstand, there was an old photo of Jolene and Marabelle, young, grinning at the camera with their arms around each other’s waists. The two sisters looked so alike and so different at the same time. Maybe it was just retrospect, but Moonshine had always thought Marabelle looked a little bit sad even though she was smiling, her face almost identical to Jolene’s. Same button nose. Same freckles. The only thing that set Marabelle apart was her dark hair and the slightly plaintive look in her eyes, as if there was something essential missing from her.

Her mother sat down on the side of the bed as well. “Turn around and let me see this ragamuffin hair of yours, girl,” she commanded, gathering Moonshine’s long hair behind her. “What’d you wanna talk about?”

Moonshine took a deep breath as Jolene began to French braid her hair, tight and even, just like she had when Moonshine had been a little girl. It was easier to ask while she was facing away from her mother so she didn’t have to see the look on her face. “Will you tell me who my daddy is?” she blurted.

There was a long pause.

“Well, I suppose you’re all grown up now,” Jolene sighed. “If you wanna know, then I’ll tell ya. But before I do, I need you to know that I always wanted you. I wanted all my kids. Wasn’t always planned, but it was always beautiful.”

“I know that.”

“When I met your daddy, he was workin’ on his dissertation. Him and his best friend came to town for a couple months to get out of the city, get some writin’ done. He was so goddamn stuck up. I think he liked me because I was the only one who would call him on his bullshit. We had our fling, but he was plannin’ on goin’ back to the college, and I didn’t wanna be the thing that stopped him. I let it slip to his best friend that I was knocked up. He was a real nice guy, Erdan. He said Lucanus would want to marry me. Well, you know me. I wasn’t interested in gettin’ married, then or now, so I just…never told ‘im. Far as I know, he’s still up there in the city.”

Moonshine took a moment to absorb this information. Not having a dad hadn’t mattered much when she’d been a kid; none of her siblings knew their fathers. In school, kids had teased her about it, but she had never cared much about other people’s opinions. She’d had more than enough positive male role models in her family. Recently, though, she had been thinking that it might be nice to have someone extra to help her, just her. Someone to give her advice. “Do you think…he’d want to meet me?”

“Can’t tell you that one way or the other, sunshine, but I can tell you that when I knew him, he was a good man. He could be plenty snobby when he wanted to be, but he was a good man.” She tied the braid off with an elastic band and patted Moonshine’s shoulder. “Now go on and have some fun with your friends. I’m sure Cobb is borin’ ‘em to death with his stories.”

“Thanks, mama.” They hugged again, long and tight, before Moonshine headed back downstairs. She hated how frail her mother felt in her arms. 

“Moonshine, I love your uncle,” Hardwon said as soon as she stepped out onto the porch. Even in the twilight, she could tell that he was red-faced from laughing.

“You love his homemade booze, is what you love.” She stole the glass out of his hand and sat down on the arm of his chair. The first sip burned way more than she remembered.

“Seriously! Funniest guy I’ve ever met.”

“Hear that, Uncle Cobb? Somebody finally likes your jokes.” Cobb waved his hand at her dismissively, chuckling. She opened her mouth to continue the razzing, but something caught her eye and distracted her. Someone was coming up the drive with a distinctive, familiar swagger. 

“Oh my God! Is that who I think it is?” she squealed, jumping out of her seat.

“What, did you forget me already?” the other girl squawked indignantly. Moonshine launched herself off the top step and into her favorite cousin’s arms. Apple had always had the physique of an athlete, and it seemed like she had only gotten brawnier since Moonshine had been away. She caught her with no problem and swung her around in a circle. When Apple put her down, she wrapped an arm around the other woman’s broad shoulders, turning to her friends on the porch.

“This here’s my favorite cousin. Don’t tell the rest of ‘em.” This elicited a round of boos and jeers from the other cousins present. Apple flipped them the bird.

“Me and this girl used to damn near destroy this town on a weekly basis.”

“That’s right!” Moonshine crowed. It was almost impossible for her to connect to the person she had been before she’d left home. It hadn’t been that long ago, but she had changed so much. Before her mother had gotten sick, before the bank had threatened to foreclose on the house, her main focus had been on having a good time. She had dropped out of high school. She’d spent most of her time running around, raising hell with Apple. She was surprised she’d had enough brain cells left when the time had come to get her GED and move away to get a job. She didn’t miss living that way, but she did miss the way it had made her feel. She had never been lonely. Her biggest worry had been whether or not she had beer money for the night. 

“Apple, this is Hardwon and Bev. They’re my best friends.” She led Apple up the steps and onto the porch, gesturing at each of them in turn.

“My replacements!” Apple said, sizing the two of them up. “Tell me, are you two fellas gamblin’ men?”

Hardwon and Beverly looked at one another uncertainly.

“Um, not really,” Bev put forth tentatively.

Apple cracked her knuckles in obvious anticipation, grinning. “Well, you are tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't my original plan, but I ended up switching perspectives for the second chapter. I wanted to get the Crick through two different lenses. I couldn't let myself keep it too light, though. Beware of the end for both some bleak-ass content and spoilers for ep 91 and beyond.

Moonshine’s crazy cousin was robbing them blind, and honestly, Hardwon was having a pretty good time. Immediately upon her arrival, Apple had set up a card table on the porch, lit by an old camping lantern, and dealt he and Bev into an absolutely farcical game of poker. Normally he would have been pissed that someone thought he was dumb enough to hustle, but there was something about Apple’s grinning braggadocio that was more charming than infuriating. 

“She’s cheating, right?” he whispered to Bev, just to make sure. Apple had been momentarily distracted by Moonshine; they were reminiscing about the time the two of them had drunkenly broken into somebody’s barn and ridden their donkey, both laughing so hard that they were in tears.

“I don’t actually know how to play poker,” Beverly admitted. “I thought I could figure it out on the go, but turns out, no.” Bev had seemed wildly out of his element for the entire night, even with the aid of some very potent liquid courage. Moonshine didn’t seem to understand why, but Hardwon did. It was the same thing that had separated him from Gemma and Jaina growing up, aside from their shitty dad: social class, money, culture. The kid had no idea how to interact with this kind of people. He was doing his best to be polite, but that word meant something a lot different to him than it did to everyone else there.

“I’m pretty sure she’s holding out. Should we let her get away with it?”

“What are we gonna do? Fight her?”

Hardwon glanced at Apple. Judging by her height and the circumference of her biceps, she probably could have dead-lifted twice Bev’s body weight. “I mean, have you seen her? It’s not out of the question.”

“Let’s just let her win. It’s not like we really have any money to lose.” That was a fair point. When they’d pooled the change in both their wallets, it had amounted to exactly $9.32 in ones and quarters. It was hardly a high-stakes game.

“Ten-four,” Hardwon whispered, just in time. Apple had turned her attention back to the two of them, mischief shining in her eyes.

“Well, boys? What’ll it be?”

“Fold,” he said, tossing his cards down decisively.

“Me too,” Bev said quickly, putting his hand down as well. Apple cackled and snatched up their $9.32. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, fellas. Round two?”

Hardwon shook his head. “Nah. We’re broke, man.”

“We could play for somethin’ else.” She grinned and jerked her head at the driveway. “I noticed you got a sweet lil’ ride on your hands, Surefoot.”

“No way,” he scoffed. She narrowed her eyes, her jovial demeanor shifting to one of fierce competitiveness.

“What, you gonna pussy out?”

“Whoa!” Hardwon exclaimed, throwing up his hands in surrender. “Chill!”

“ _You_ chill!” Apple shot back. She rolled up her sleeve and thunked her elbow down on the card table. “If you ain’t man enough to gamble, at least arm wrestle me for it.” 

He looked at Moonshine for help, but she just shrugged at him, grinning so wide that he could see the cute little gap between her two front teeth. Hardwon was starting to get the impression that this was fairly normal behavior for Apple. Somewhat reluctantly, he rolled up his sleeve and put his elbow on the table. 

“I want a good, clean fight, now,” Moonshine cautioned. “No spittin’, kickin’, or eye-pokin’. On the count of three.” 

Apple did not wait for three, but Hardwon had expected that. He didn’t go easy on her—he didn’t need to. She was even stronger than he’d assumed. 

“How much do you lift?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“However much a bale of hay weighs,” she replied, sounding just as winded. Just as he started to inch her arm toward the table, she kicked him hard in the knee, which distracted him long enough for her to turn the tides and slam his hand down.

“She kicked me!” he shouted indignantly, realizing too late that he sounded like a kid tattling to the teacher.

“Disqualified!” Moonshine said, waving her hand at her cousin. “What part of _no kickin’_ didn’t you understand?” 

Apple looked wounded. “Moonshine! You’re gonna take his word over your own flesh and blood? After all we been through?”

Moonshine punched her in the shoulder. “Damn straight! You used to do the exact same fuckin’ thing to me when we were kids!” 

Hardwon turned to Bev, rubbing his smarting knee. “Let’s go find another drink.”

They left the bickering pair of cousins at the card table and tracked down the mason jar of liquor that was making the rounds. A cousin who introduced himself as Cooter promised that he would take the two of them muddin’ the next day. Hardwon didn’t know what the hell muddin’ was, but it sounded like something he could see himself being a part of. He could see himself being a part of a lot of things around here, or at least, he wanted to believe that he could. He liked this place and its people more than he would have ever admitted out loud. The stories his Uncle Red had told him about his father made it seem like the man had been too full of machismo for his own good, but maybe if he’d gotten to live a little longer, get a little older, he would have settled down someplace just like this with Hardwon’s mother. Maybe his life would have been unimaginably different.

At some point, Hardwon looked around and realized that Moonshine wasn’t with the group anymore. It didn’t take him long to track her down—she was hard to miss, even in a crowd of people who shared her genes. She was sitting with her knees up by her chin in the grass just outside of the ring of light that spilled off the porch, staring pensively into the creek that bubbled along beside the house. When she heard him coming, she looked up and flashed an apologetic half-smile.

“I forgot how quick that homemade liquor hits,” she said by way of explanation. “Is Bev okay?”

He jerked his thumb back at the gathering. “He’s over there trying to show one of your cousins how to make a lanyard.” 

She snorted. He sat down beside her on the damp ground and began to idly admire the clear, star-filled sky, waiting. He knew Moonshine well enough to know that if he sat there in silence for long enough, she would eventually spill her guts.

After about a minute, she sighed heavily, and he knew his plan had been effective. “I feel like…I don’t really belong here anymore.”

“Why?”

“I mean, I love my family. I loved growin’ up here. But it’s all so fuckin’ suffocatin’ sometimes.” She paused, grimacing. “There’s not a goddamn thing I can do to stop them foreclosin’ on this house. Even if I had all the money I made this year in my pocket right now, I’d still be a couple grand short.”

In that moment, Hardwon found himself genuinely frustrated with her. She was one of the smartest people he knew, but when she put her blinders on, there was no convincing her that anything outside of her limited field of vision existed. “These people love you, Moonshine. They don’t expect you to do that. You’re the only one who expects yourself to do all this impossible shit.”

There was a beat of surprised silence. She ran her long, sleek braid through her hand, her eyebrows furrowing. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“That’s what you keep me around for. All the deep thoughts.” He tapped the side of his head. Moonshine didn’t appear to have heard his lame joke; she seemed like she was deep in thought.

“Y’know, Hardwon…” she began slowly. “I been thinkin’ ‘bout what you asked me earlier.”

“Yeah?” His heart clenched like a fist in his chest. She was going to take back what she’d said in the car about her family treating her right. Whatever it was would be a lot harder to hear now that he had already met her family and decided that he liked them; he steeled himself for the worst.

“Yeah. I would wanna know if anythin’ bad happened to you, too.”

Hardwon was hit with a powerful wave of relief, followed quickly by discomfort. There was no way he was going to open that can of worms; not now, and maybe not ever. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Hey!” she protested. Her arm shot out lightening-quick, as if by instinct; she flicked his ear with her index finger like a playground bully.

“Ow!” He clapped his hand to the side of his head. Moonshine ignored his dramatics, looking him right in the eye with that characteristic fierceness that both scared the shit out of him and made him love her even more.

“It matters to me because _you_ matter to me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied automatically, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Good.” Her gaze never faltered, her clear green eyes fixed like two lasers on his. He wanted to lean in and kiss her, but they usually waited until they were a lot drunker to get up to those kinds of shenanigans. If they kissed while they were too sober, there was the chance that they might have to have a coherent, adult conversation about their relationship. Besides…what if that was something she only liked when she was shitfaced, like greasy pizza or karaoke? What if he was her last resort, the person she fell back on when nobody else picked up the phone?

Suddenly, Moonshine’s heart-shaped face was colored by a spray of violet light, accompanied by a bang and a joyful whoop. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, shit. They done broke out the homemade fireworks.” For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether or not this was a good thing or a bad thing, but then she broke into an enormous grin. “C’mon!”

She jumped to her feet and held out her hand to help him up. He took it, hoisted himself to his feet, and let her drag him back toward the festivities, where everyone was gathered in a throng around Uncle Cobb. The old man was holding what looked like a crude bomb and a lighter in the middle of the yard, cackling like a maniac. 

“Uncle Cobb makes the _best_ fireworks,” Moonshine explained. “Watch. Don’t get too close, though. That’s how my cousin Petri lost his pinkie finger.” She waved Beverly over. He crossed the yard to join them on the grass.

“Is this, like…legal?” he asked. 

“You worry too much, kid,” she said, slapping him on the back. “It’s fun, is what it is.”

As they watched, Cobb set the little cylinder down, lit the fuse, then booked it as quickly as someone of his age could manage away from the blast zone. A few seconds later, the firework exploded in a cloud of smoke and colorful, fizzing sparks. Everyone clapped and hollered, even Bev, dazzled like a bunch of children on the Fourth of July.

In the noise and chaos, Hardwon almost didn’t even notice that Moonshine had never let go of his hand. 

*

Breakfast found the family a lot more subdued than they had been the previous night. The conversation was limited to grunts and requests that various condiments be passed one direction or the other. Hardwon hadn’t slept very well on the twin bed; it had been neither wide nor long enough to accommodate him. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been twisted into a balloon animal. The only person who seemed chipper was Jolene, who was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes and humming to herself. Occasionally, she would toss a blueberry to Pawpaw and Mawmaw, who were sitting attentively at her feet.

The side door opened with a loud creak, causing the more hungover individuals at the table to flinch. It was hard to keep everyone straight, but Hardwon didn’t think he’d met this particular member of the Cybin family yet. The guy was clean-shaven with dark hair, wearing an old leather jacket and a pair of cowboy boots. One of his eyes was covered with a white film; the other was the same color as Moonshine’s.

“Hey, wild child,” he drawled, ruffling Moonshine’s hair. “Heard you were back in town for the weekend.” All eyes were locked on the newcomer. Nobody moved to greet or welcome him. Tension blanketed the room, but as usual, Moonshine was oblivious.

“Hey! I wasn’t expectin’ to see you!” she exclaimed, turning in her chair. “You look good!”

“Well, this might have somethin’ to do with it.” He dug an NA chip out of his pocket and flashed it at her with a somewhat sheepish smile. “Two months.” It finally dawned on Hardwon who he was looking at. It was her older brother, the one who had called to ask her for drug money. Deadeye.

Uncle Cobb was the first person to react. He stood up from the table and pulled the younger man in for a tight hug. There were tears glimmering in his eyes. 

“Proud of you, kid,” he said gruffly. 

“Awww, bring it in!” Moonshine jumped up and shamelessly joined the hug. As if a spell had been broken, everyone in the kitchen sprung into action, hugging, shaking Deadeye’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Siddown and eat some pancakes, son,” Jolene said faux-sternly, pointing at the table with her spatula. “You always been too skinny.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Deadeye replied, pulling up a chair. He noticed Hardwon and Bev for the first time, and his smile wavered slightly. “Who the hell are you two?”

“They’re family,” Moonshine said, as if it were obvious. As if it were a well-known fact. Hardwon had to turn his face away so nobody saw him tear up.

They spent the rest of the weekend catching up with an endless parade of family and friends and family-friends and friend-families on the front porch, helping the old folks cook, and, of course, going muddin’. It all seemed to go by very quickly. When it came time to pack their stuff back into the El Camino and take their leave, Hardwon found that he didn’t want to go home. His empty life in the city seemed especially pathetic when compared with the liveliness and richness of what these people had cultivated without even trying. At least they got to take a little bit of that warmth back with them in the form of the girl who sat in the passenger’s seat of his car, dozing in the sun with her dirty feet on the dashboard.

The trip shook something loose in Hardwon’s brain, a desire to be close to people that he had been stuffing down and beating back ever since he could remember. He figured a good place to start to change things would be with his prodigal uncle; even though Red was not the most emotive person in the world, Hardwon knew that he was basically a good person with good intentions. Maybe he just needed to put a little more elbow grease into the relationship. A few days after they returned home, he drove out to the trailer park where he lived to surprise the old man.

He knocked on the door; it bore a battered sign reading, _Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again!_ There was no answer. He tried again to no avail. Finally, he just shouldered it open and poked his head into the trailer.

“Uncle Red? You home?” he called into the still, close air. The place was dark, smelling faintly of mildew. Every surface was littered with cigarette butts, beer cans, crumpled clothes, and magazines that Hardwon didn’t care to examine too closely. It seemed like it had been empty for a while.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a voice asked suddenly. Hardwon jumped and wheeled around. There was a guy leaning on a rake outside, squinting at him suspiciously.

“My uncle lives here,” he said somewhat sheepishly, jerking his thumb at the interior of the mobile home.

The guy’s expression changed immediately. He ducked his head. “I didn’t know Red had family. I’m sorry, kid. He died about two weeks ago.”

“How?” he asked, once he’d managed to summon the breath.

“In his sleep, I think. Sorry again for your loss.” With a wave, the guy took his rake and walked off briskly down the road. Hardwon sat down heavily on the steps and looked out over the bleak, uniform landscape of the trailer park, wrapped in a thick mantle of grey clouds. He tucked his hands into his armpits to guard against the wind that chapped his face raw, his cheeks wet with tears he didn’t even really feel. It was going to be fall very soon.


End file.
